


Dating with Dubious Consent

by surrenderdammit



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sano sets Kenshin up on a date in a rather unusual manner. Sano doesn't quite understand how the world works.</p>
<p>Kaoru is not pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dating with Dubious Consent

**Author's Note:**

> So I have no idea where this came from. I've been flirting with the fandom again after seeing the live action movie and have already made a few fanarts again, then BOOM, this happened.
> 
> It's crack. Pure crack. So, uh, beware.

**.**

Kaoru isn't sure how she ended up here, but Yahiko will write sonnets about her beauty before she makes a fuss of it. She's in the new restaurant that opened last month, all mahogany and reds and whites in décor with waiters in tails – silver forks polished, fragile china, crystal glasses that hums – and it's  _insane_. Selling the dojo might not even be enough to pay for the garlic bread, she thinks faintly. This is, however, irrelevant because the man occupying the chair opposite her is leaning causally on the table between them looking like he goes to this place for  _breakfast_. He looks to be only a few years older than her, hair ruby red and tied neatly at the nape of his neck trailing for who knows how long down his back. He's in all black except for a tie to match his hair, suit jacket unbuttoned to show off a vest snugly hugging a solid chest and narrow waist. There's none of the muscle of overachieving gym goers, but she doesn't doubt that he's got the strength of it and more. It's more dangerous, she muses, because what you can't see you can't judge. That aside, if there was any doubt it would be erased by one look into the man's eyes.

They're a solid gold and as hard and cold as steel. The man's pretty, most likely half-Asian with such delicate features, but quite obviously dangerous and not entirely pleased with her presence. She could work with that.

Taking up the menu and flipping it open, Kaoru clears her throat. "So, what's the cheapest thing on here?" She flips through the pages, making a strangled noise as the prices seem to go higher and higher rather than take pity on her to play at being reasonable. Snapping it closed, she pushes it off to the side with a glare. "Water it is."

The silence resumes and Kaoru taps out a rhythm on the edge of the table, the noise dulled by the fine fabric of the tablecloth. She avoids the man's eyes as well as she can, but she feels them boring into her in any case and if it continues on like this she's sure she'll have permanent goosebumps.

"Who are you." Kaoru jumps in her seat at the sound of the man phrasing a question like a command. She's tempted to point and yell 'IT SPEAKS!' but politely refrains. Couching into her hand to cover up a hysterical giggle that almost slipped free, Kaoru squirms slightly under the scrutiny she's under. She's got a feeling this man doesn't hear the word 'no' a lot unless he wants to.

"Um, Kaoru?" She begins, utterly bemused and not afraid enough to not show it. It's probably unwise and breaking some sort of protocol, but so far, she's never been taught the Etiquettes of Proper Behavior During Semi-Kidnappings to Fancy Places and Sexy Men Who Are Not In On Said Napping.

Seriously, she was just stopping by 7/11 for a coke and a kitkat, she's in her yoga pants and tank top, what the hell?

"Kaoru," the man repeats, deadpan. "It's my lunch break."

"Redhead," she counters, because really. "I like cats and I hate walks on the beach because the sand gets in  _everywhere_."

For a moment his blank expression falters in what she thinks is confusion or annoyance (maybe both, she's been known to inspire each in equal measures). "It's my lunch break," he bravely continues on, "And I eat all my lunches alone. Always. For a reason."

She nods along because that seems like the thing to do, fingering the corners of the linen napkin that probably gets dry cleaned thrice daily to keep her straying attention occupied. The man either doesn't notice her lack of interest in this game of State Random Facts they're apparently playing, or he just doesn't care, because he continues on in the same flat tones as before. "I'm not interested in your company or your  _services_. I'll write you a check so you can be on your way, or you can go to Sano, since he seems so eager to exploit your kind."

She's still nodding along like a champ even as his little speech ends and he's pulling out a checkbook (who has one of those anymore, seriously?) and it's not until he's enquiring on her rates that what he said actually catches up with her.

Well, she's always wanted to do this and she feels the situation more than makes up for the overly dramatic, clichéd maneuver.

She snags the glass of water that had magically appeared sometime between her flipping through the menu and now, standing up, and flings it  _in his face._  Disgustingly expensive wine would've been more satisfying, but the gesture speaks for itself.

She's not sure how she managed to get out of the building alive – he'd looked ready to gut her – but she did so without a word and feeling much better with herself at the confused expression on the giant of a man who'd dragged her here and shoved her down into the Chair of Awkward Lunch Breaks minutes earlier. He'd obviously left her to stand guard outside the restaurant like some sort of glorified bouncer Bodyguard Style but she's been pushed around enough today thank you, so she merely flips him the bird and tries to wave down a cab.

"Damn, I thought for sure you'd hit it off," the man whines, having walked up to stand sulking next to her as she eyes the cars driving past wishing she could Magneto one of them into stopping and driving her home. "I mean, I've seen you kill those punching bags in the gym and the guys all call you Kaoru 'Takes No Shit' Kamiya, you know? And Kenshin doesn't like anything that isn't a challenge, the masochistic bastard. You didn't even let Chou _finish_  asking you out before you kneed him in the balls!"

"Chou did ask me to do something to his balls, he just didn't specify," she hums, arm out and waving, hoping for someone to take pity on her. "Also, this Kenshin gave off a much more sadistic vibe, to me. Does he ever chain you up and beat you over the head?"

The man stares at her, eyes wide. Kaoru smiles.

"SANOSUKE, what the hell were you-"

Ah. "Speak of the devil," she mutters, turning sharply to leave for more prospective cab areas, maybe even a bus stop; she doesn't really care at this point.

"Hey Missy!" the muscle man – Sanosuke, she remember hearing the name now, from the guys at the gym down her street – shouts, darting after her to crab a hold of her arm. "Wait, wait,  _wait!_ "

"I wonder if I apply enough pressure, I'll be able to bite your fingers off?" Kaoru muses aloud, eying said appendages wrapped around her bicep. Sanosuke looks faintly panicked.

"You could try," redhead – Kenshin – replied from behind, making her turn fully around so she can face them both. "But no one knows where they've been."

"Hey!" Sanosuke protests, still holding onto her. Kenshin ignores him, Kaoru following suit if only to focus all her attention of glaring a hole through the pretty face of the redheaded jerk. His smirk makes her redouble her efforts. His hair's still wet, that's probably why he's not catching on fire.

"You never got your check," he points out idly, pose relaxed as he inspects his fingernails for imaginary dirt. Or the old blood of his enemies. The jury's out on that one. Kaoru seethes.

"Check? What check?" Sanosuke sounds genuinely confused and not happy about it. Kenshin side-eyes him.

"So she's not an escort."

Spluttering, Sanosuke loosens his old enough for Kaoru to slip free. "Escort?! For  _you?!_  I know better than that, Kenshin!"

"Not an escort," Kaoru agrees, already walking away. "Idiot."

"Hmm, the yoga pants should've been obvious," Kenshin says with an agreeable tone. Kaoru's fingers twitch, ready to crush  _something_ , because he's walking right next to her. He's speeding up when she speeds up and slowing down when she slows down.

It's as annoying as having ten year old Yahiko repeat everything she says while she says it for three hours straight.

"As a first date, I feel we both found it lacking," he comments, snatching her clenched fist and tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow, grip too strong to get out of but harmless.

"Lacking in consent," she mutters, the events of the day taking a tool on her and finally showing in her rising annoyance. Kenshin tuts.

"A small matter," he dismisses, patting her imprisoned hand. "Our second date will be much better. I saw a dress the other day that would look stunning on you. I'll have it sent for you by Friday. 19:00, I think, would be a good time. I'll drop by."

"You're not normal." He ignores her. "Seriously,  _crazy cakes_. Cuckoo's nest, I'm flying over it. The view is  _not nice_."

He's been steering her towards and ominously black sedan around the corner of the restaurant, leading her up to open the door for her.

"Just tell the driver where to and he'll make sure you get there. See you Friday, Kaoru."

Blinking, Kaoru slid into the car and stared.

"Wear matching underwear," he says with a grin before closing the door on her like a promise.

She's already planning his murder.

**.**


End file.
